


My Aim is True

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-23
Updated: 2006-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8729158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: "Jared thinks Jensen does it on purpose. The non-stop flirting, the way he can't let any girl within twenty feet pass them by without calling her over, finding out her name and what she does for a living. Jensen's a flirt, plain and simple, and it shouldn't piss Jared off as much as it does."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Title - my aim is true  
Pairing - JA/JP  
Rating - adult  
Word Count - 2300  
  
side note: SMECKLES = LOVE.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_**my aim is true**_  
  
  
  
  
Jared thinks Jensen does it on purpose. The non-stop flirting, the way he can’t let any girl within twenty feet pass them by without calling her over, finding out her name and what she does for a living. Jensen’s a flirt, plain and simple, and it shouldn’t piss Jared off as much as it does.   
  
And Jesus fuck, it _does_.   
  
“Jared, man. Lighten up.” Jensen leans forward across the table. He’s wearing a tan button-down shirt that makes his hair look gold by comparison. The stubble on his chin and cheeks looks rugged and rough. Jared wants to touch it with his tongue. “This place is crawling with chicks tonight. What gives?”  
  
_Your mouth_ , is what Jared thinks. _I can’t stop staring at your mouth._ What he says is: “Nothing, man. I’m fine,” as he leans back in his chair and sips his drink.   
  
*  
  
Three hours later and the bar is finally quieting down. The faux-honky-tonk band that had been playing finally called it quits, thank the good lord, and the bartender just announced last call. Jared’s limbs feel heavy, his blood pleasantly buzzed from tequila and beer.   
  
Jensen helps Jared out of his seat even though Jared could probably manage it on his own. He doesn’t care how much of a pussy it makes him look like. Jensen’s touching him and Jared’s not strong enough to say no. “Come on, man. Help me out,” Jensen mutters, as he slips his arm around Jared’s waist.   
  
Jared knows he’s being a dick, but he stumbles more at the feel of Jensen’s arm around him. _I think I’m in love with you_ , floats through his brain, and he bites his tongue to keep from saying it. That’s the last thing he needs to do.   
  
“You okay?” Jensen asks. They’re at the door to the bar, ready to head outside. He’s looking up at Jared with worried eyes and a twist to his lips. Jared has to force himself to keep from bending down and taking that wide mouth with his own. That’d let the cat out of the bag _real_ fast. “You don’t usually get like this, Jared.”  
  
“’M’good.” Jared nods and shrugs into his coat. It’s not a complete lie. He’ll be fine by morning which is close enough. “I’ll be fine.”  
  
Jared figures if he says it enough, maybe one day it’ll be true.   
  
*  
  
Jensen drives him home. They met at the bar after work, but Jared’s not sober enough to even hold up his end of the argument, let alone drive. “Just shut up and get in,” Jensen says, the alarm to his Jeep beeping softly from the back corner of the lot. Jared closes his mouth and slides into the front seat.   
  
The ride home is quiet. Jensen hums something low under his breath that Jared doesn’t recognize and is afraid to ask about. If he knows the name that means he can sit up too late tonight, looking up lyrics and downloading music files before jerking off to whatever lame song Jensen randomly chose to hum. Knowing Jensen it’s probably the Bangles, or something equally cheesy.   
  
When Jared opens his mouth to talk, he has no idea what he’s planning on saying.   
  
“Hey, Jensen?”  
  
Jared leans his head back and closes his eyes. He can feel Jensen turn towards him, before looking back out at the road. “Yeah?”  
  
“’M’gonna ask you out one day.” And _that_ wasn’t what Jared was planning on saying, that’s for _damn_ sure.   
  
Jensen makes a weird choking sound. “What?”  
  
Jared nods. It makes sense, in his head. “One day I’m gonna ask you out. On a date,” he clarifies, in case Jensen doesn’t understand. “Just you and me.” Again with the clarification.   
  
The car stops moving. Jared panics, because, sure, maybe Jensen is freaking out, but leaving Jared on the side of the road is just plain cold. He opens his mouth to try and take it back, to say whatever he needs to to get Jensen not to drag him from the car and punch his brains out, but when he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is his own front window, complete with Sadie’s big head poking from under the curtain.   
  
Oh. Jared’s home. That’s why Jensen stopped the car. Right.   
  
Jared rubs a hand over his face. “Jensen, listen—“ he starts, but then Jensen’s fingers are curling around his wrist and pulling his hand back. Jared blinks. Jensen’s staring at him with half-lidded eyes, and a small smirk curving his lips. Jared’s heart flutters in his chest, and suddenly, he can’t breathe.   
  
“Just go inside, Jared,” Jensen says, not unkindly. He smiles a little and adds, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, all right?”  
  
Jared takes that as the blowoff it probably is. They’ll talk tomorrow. Sure they will. Jared might not have dated anyone since him and Sandy split up, but even he can translate ‘we’ll talk tomorrow’ into ‘tomorrow when you’re sober we’ll both pretend this never happened.’   
  
He pulls his hand back and drops his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Jensen,” he says, as he climbs from the car.   
  
*  
  
Jared spends the next day on set trying to avoid Jensen as much as humanly possible. It’s not an easy feat, seeing as how they shoot nearly every scene together, but anytime they’re not filming, Jared ducks around corners and into and out of trailers and tents every time he sees Jensen coming. There aren’t too many things Jared would want to do less than talk about him asking Jensen out on a _date_ last night. Root canal and being skinned by his balls are maybe the only two.   
  
He makes it until quarter to five before Jensen corners him.   
  
“You’re hard to catch today,” Jensen says, placing a hand on either side of Jared’s shoulders, trapping him against the outside wall of Jared’s trailer. He’s supposed to be on his dinner break, dammit. Not being shoved around by Jensen fucking Ackles.   
  
“Just busy.” Jared shrugs a shoulder and talks to the space just past Jensen’s left ear. “What’s up?”  
  
Jensen’s gaze is like a physical weight. Jared can _feel_ it when he says, “Jared, last night—“  
  
“Yeah, wow, I was bombed last night. Whew.” Jared wonders if his smile looks as fake as it feels. Jensen’s watching him closely, carefully, through slitted eyes that know too much about Jared already, all the time. “Barely remember half of what I said or did.”  
  
Jensen waits a beat, then says, “I do,” quiet as a secret.   
  
Jared swallows hard. This isn’t – this wasn’t – he didn’t mean—  
  
“Look, Jen.” Jared drops his eyes and picks at the cuticle on his thumb. “I didn’t mean what I said last night. I was drunk and--”  
  
“You didn’t?”  
  
Jared shakes his head. He didn’t mean to fuck this up, he really didn’t. Him and Jensen are… They’re him and _Jensen_ , for god’s sake. Jared never wanted to ruin anything.   
  
“Wow.” Jensen’s voice is soft. He takes a step closer, and Jared straightens, trying to make sure their bodies don’t touch. That’s the last thing he needs right now. When he looks at Jensen’s face, he’s shocked speechless. Jensen’s _smiling_ at him. “That sucks,” Jensen finally says.   
  
Jared can’t remember the last time he was this confused. “What?”  
  
“Nothing, just.” Jensen shrugs. This time when he moves, it’s to slide one leg between Jared’s and lean in close to his ear. “I was kinda hoping you did.”  
  
*  
  
Jared picks Jensen up at nine that night. He’d called earlier in the day and made a reservation at the Italian place on Main St. that Jensen likes, even though Jared thinks the one on Sixth Ave. is better. He asked for a table in the corner, far away from the rest, and when Jensen opens the passenger door of Jared’s truck and slides in, clean shaven and smelling of his expensive cologne, Jared’s glad he did.   
  
It’s like a first date, but not. Jensen and Jared have known each other too long, too well, for any of it to be weird or awkward. They have the same job, the same friends. They sit at the table and order beers and talk about work and the show and the station while Jared decides on the ziti and Jensen debates between the chicken special or fish.   
  
After they order Jensen grins and sips his beer. Jared smiles back and tries to convince himself not to move his chair closer so he can touch Jensen under the table. Just a hand on his knee - nothing more than that – but Jared can’t stop thinking about it.   
  
Which is why he’s shocked speechless when he feels Jensen’s fingers curl around his where they rest on his lap.   
  
*  
  
They drink and eat and hang out in the restaurant until it’s closing time. By then Jensen is relaxed, sprawled out on his chair with his feet kicked under Jared’s seat. He’s talking about his first jobs, moving to LA, and Jared smiles and answers back, all the while never looking away from Jensen’s eyes and mouth.   
  
Jensen is perfect like this. Laid back and happy. He’s wearing a black shirt, open at the collar, and Jared wants to kiss the triangle of skin at the base of his throat. Wants to touch his hands to Jensen’s face, tilt his head back, and kiss the dip in Jensen’s top lip, right where his lip fades from smooth to stubble.   
  
Jared just _wants_.   
  
The lights flicker and Jared hears the maitre’d clear his throat from behind them. He leans forward and cups Jensen’s knee in the palm of his hand, sliding his fingers a few inches up the inside of Jensen’s leg.   
  
“You wanna head out?” Jared tightens his fingers on Jensen’s thigh.   
  
“Yeah. Come on,” Jensen says thickly. His eyes are hot when they drop to Jared’s mouth.   
  
Jared gets the check.   
  
*  
  
It’s late already, and tomorrow’s an early call, so when Jared passes the bar and keeps driving, Jensen doesn’t argue. Besides, maybe this is enough for now.   
  
Jared pulls his truck to a stop in from of Jensen’s small, grey duplex, and kills the ignition. The steering wheels slicks under his palms. He chews on his bottom lip, and wonders when he became such a freaking girl, and why he’s making such a big deal about this all. It was just dinner. It didn’t have to mean anything, not really.   
  
Except that when he turns his head and looks at Jensen across the front seat, Jared realizes what a bunch of bullshit that is. This means something. It means _everything_.   
  
Jared wants to say a thousand things. He wants to find out if Jensen had a good time, if he regrets it, if he wants to do it again. He wants to know if Jensen’s lain awake in bed for months, thinking of Jared’s hands and mouth like Jared has his. He wants to know if Jensen wants to kiss him, or if he kisses Jensen, will he kiss Jared back?   
  
He wants to know everything, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. Jensen drops his eyes and leans over, chuckling softly, and then Jared’s doing it. Touching his hands to the sides of Jensen’s face, and tilting his head up and back.   
  
“Jen.” Jared breathes out his name, and touches his thumb to the corner of Jensen’s eye. Jensen’s hands fist in Jared’s shirt, dragging him closer, and Jared blinks, licks his lips and can’t stop staring.   
  
When he leans in close enough to touch Jensen’s mouth with his, Jared stops and just breathes. Jensen’s mouth is parted, warm breath passing in the space between them, and it’s almost too much. Jared’s never gotten the exact thing he wanted, and part of him is almost afraid to touch Jensen and realize it was somehow all a dream. That none of this happened. That Jared’s still home, by himself, wanting. That he’ll touch Jensen’s mouth, and the whole night will turn to dust in the palm of his hand.   
  
Then Jensen tips his head forward that last inch, and they’re kissing. Slow and wet, like the deepest promise. Jared’s head feels too light, his hands too heavy. He tilts Jensen’s head to the side, and sweeps his tongue across Jensen’s lips, touching soft skin and tasting Jensen’s smile.   
  
“What’re you smiling at?” Jared mumbles.  
  
Jensen laughs quietly. “Nothing, man. You, ah, you wanna come in?”  
  
And Jared does. God, he does. But the thing is, he wants more. He wants _this_ to be something more, so instead of saying yes and climbing from the car like he’d normally do, all he does is kiss Jensen’s mouth one more time, before shaking his head and pulling away.   
  
“I do, yeah, but I’m not gonna.”   
  
Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah. I mean.” Jared shrugs and feels like a dork. Maybe this is stupid. Maybe he’s making too much out of this. After all, they’re both guys, and it _was_ a date. He palms the keys and goes to open the door. “Actually, okay, yeah.”  
  
“No, wait.” Jensen’s hand on his arm stops him. “Maybe you’re right.”  
  
Jared’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “I am?”  
  
“Yeah, I mean,” Jared shivers when Jensen brushes his thumb on the inside of Jared’s wrist. He lifts his eyes slowly, and Jared’s chest tightens at the look in his eyes. “You can come inside next time.”  
  
  
  
-end-


End file.
